Preface:
Her ghost was white, translucent. Her body wavered in and out like a projection but her soft smile stayed the same. Her eyes stared at me which were pale orbs floating inside a skull that was not fully there. Without knowledge, I reached towards her, wanting to grasp her frail hand and bring her close. Right when I got close, her figure was ripped away from me and once again the pain and emptiness filled my heart, body, and soul. My heart beat fast as my sobs broke the ice thin air. Once again the world was playing a cold hearted joke on me in the image of the one I lost long ago.
Chapter One: Why Must It Hurt
The window was frosted over with a light sheen of frozen snow, the outside world looking like a wonderland. I stood frozen before my bedroom window and gazed out at the front lawn. Although, it was hard to see through the light ice, I could still make out the forms of young children playing in the snow.
"Evie?," A soft voice came from the door.
I turned and faced a man with a distant, broken face. His chin was covered in a rough patch of hair, his black hair that was usually smooth and arranged perfectly on his head was now messy and looking oily. His bright blue eyes were now dull and lifeless, as his pale pasty skin was usually a creamy white was now a sickening gray. I didn't gasp at the sight of my Father but I didn't exactly feel comfortable with his appearance either.
I looked at him blankly, wondering in my mind why he had even bothered to get out of bed.
"Yes, Dad?," I asked after a few moments of silence.
My voice was foreign even to me, it was plain and a bit eerie. What happened to the joy? The happiness? The laughs? They all died along with. . . But I couldn't think it. So much pain was hidden behind the thought that it was almost too much to bear.
"Uhm. . . Nothing. Never mind," With that he left silently, his shuffling feet barely even making a sound.
I turned back to the window and once again just stared out at the happy, careless kids. I longed to feel the way they do, to not have a care in the world. I wished I didn't have to feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.
"Miss Evelyn? . . . Miss Evelyn, are you listening?," The voice of my school counselor brought me out of my daze.
"What is it, Ms. Jensen?," I questioned, staring at her but still seeing the face of. . . her.
"You weren't listening were you? You know I don't like repeating myself but since this is of importance I will do so. Your Father has requested you see a therapist for the next few months. I have signed off on his proposal considering it seems you are not comfortable talking about your Mother with me. I hope you will allow this woman to help you through this hard time in your life, Evelyn. She is an old friend of mine and, I dare say, she is one of the best I have ever known throughout my time of being," Ms. Jensen droned a bit hopefully.
Translate: Go talk to this woman so I don't have to deal with you anymore.
I sighed and sat back in the plush, blue velvet couch.
"Do you have anything to say to that?," Ms. Jensen urged me, leaning forward some so she could get a closer look into my eyes. I just stared at her. Yes, I did have something to say to that, I had a lot to say to that. But I couldn't make myself say it because I knew the words were hurtful and useless. No matter what I said I would still be going to see that therapist, what ever her name is. Still, the words bubbled up in my throat but my mouth refused to release them. Ms. Jensen sighed and sat back in her comfy looking chair.
"You can't keep silent forever, Evelyn. Keeping things bottled up inside isn't healthy and it gets us nowhere"
The timer chimed in the middle of her sentence and, without thinking, I strut to the door and left swiftly. I didn't care what was healthy and what was not, I just wanted to be left alone. As I made my way down the empty hallway my thoughts wandered over the previous year, the year she. . . left. I lost contact with my friends, I never spoke to any human being, and I hardly ever went outside. I remember, when I was younger, I would run out and play in the woods surrounding my house all day long. I remember finding various creatures on the ground and in the trees, asking multiple questions about them and their habitats.
I shook my head clear as I came to my lamely colored locker and, after spinning in the code, gathered my books. Calculus was the only thing I had homework in so for once my book bag wasn't heavy.
Outside waited my black Mercedes, blanketed in a light cover of snow. My nose wrinkled in disgust. Snow. I used to love the stuff but now I loathed it. It was the reason she was gone, the reason for so many accidents. I shivered violently as I made my way to my car, unlocking the doors and climbing inside. As soon as the door was shut, I blasted the heat and turned up the stereo system. Escape The Fate blasted from the speakers, shaking the dash board slightly. I drove home slowly, not wanting my tires to skid across the streets.
The house was quiet when I got home, I expected that much. Dad was nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard. The floor boards creaked with every step I took up the staircase. When I reached the hallway, a very distinct smell invaded my senses. It smelled of rust and salt, two very unappealing scents. With a dawn of realization, I dropped my bag and ran towards my Father's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, I approached the door with dramatic slowness, the smell becoming stronger and yet stronger with every step taken forward. I pushed open the door with the toe of my shoe and poked my head inside. The scent was stronger here, almost unbearable. Almost nothing was out of the ordinary. . . Except for the steaming bathroom and foggy windows. My foot sank into the carpet with a nasty sounding squish as I walked all the way into the room.
"Dad?," I called. "Daddy?"
I walked towards the bathroom door where the steam was escaping from between it and the floor. My hand was cold against the steamy metal knob, twisting it my hand slipped. Using the sleeves of my jacket, I dried off the door knob and went inside. The bathroom was clogged with steam, almost smoke like, and suffocating me slowly.
"D-dad!," I choked out, coughing up some of the saliva lodged in my throat.
My shoe slipped out from under me and it wasn't until then that I noticed the deep, scarlet liquid lying beneath me. Realization slammed into me hard. I had just lost yet another of my beloved. . .